Remnants of Humanity
by Eleanorish
Summary: Before Edward's time, Isabella Swan is dying of a mysterious disease, and Doctor Cullen uses his last resort to save her. After Carlisle saves Edward from dying, friction between Edward and Bella may threaten to tear the family apart. Normal pairings.
1. Boundless Imagination

**Disclaimer: All Twilight characters are owned by Stephanie Meyer. **

**Sorry about the bits of OOC-ness. There are probably a lot of them, but bear with me.**

BPOV

I always liked the mornings. The sun would stream down through the red velvet curtains, lighting upon the coverlets, dancing across the walls. I could dance then, too. I could imagine swaying to a softly playing orchestra, walking in gardens at sunset among blooming roses. I could smell sea air as I sauntered along high cliffs. The imagination has no limits.

Of course, the rest of the world does. After finding me awake, Geneva, the maid, would fuss about and bring me soup. She would say the same thing every day.

"You're looking much better, Miss."

I would smile and nod, then set the soup on the dresser, where it would stay until Geneva would come and take it away at night.

I had been sick since I was a child. At first, mother and father were devastated. Then, as time wore on, they seemed to forget my existence. I could not remember the last time I had seen either of them, and the only thing they did for me any more was pay the doctor.

The only other person who came into my room was Doctor Cullen. I had never spoken to him, but every day he arrived with a smile. He talked to me while he worked of things I had never seen. His words of vast oceans, fireworks, and exotic places and animals fueled my imaginary travels.

Lately, though, his smile had been fading. He would come in with a welcoming grin, but, as he checked me over, the smile would fade until nothing was left but a look of worry. My pain had been getting worse, and every few seconds a terrible cough racked my body. I had a constant fever, and I had not eaten for several weeks.

Doctor Cullen would arrive every week at the same time. When Geneva used to talk to me, she would gossip of mother's flirtatious antics directed towards Dr. Cullen. He was polite and kind, but always refused politely to stay for supper or whatever scheme she had cooked up.

As the clock was chiming five, the doctor knocked on my door. He entered, wearing the same breathtaking smile as usual. I couldn't deny that he was unnaturally handsome. His blond hair was swept back out of his face. His skin was pale, paler than mine, even. Every time he visited me, his eyes were a different color. They ranged from the lightest topaz to almost black. Today, they were liquid amber.

His expression turned to worry as he glanced around the room. Pillows and sheets had been strewn about as I tossed in pain. My wavy brown hair was slick to my head and my clothes were soaked with sweat. My face was a constant contortion of pain.

He walked over and set his bag down on the bed. Looking at his silver watch, he pressed his fingers to my wrist. His fingers were like ice against my flaming skin, but it felt good. I sighed. Another wave of pain hit me and I gasped.

He looked at me in alarm. Then, seeing that I was not harmed, he went back to his business.

"I'm afraid that your pulse is quickening." He put his hand to my forehead. "You still have a fever. Is the pain worse?"

I nodded. It was unbearable. It had driven me to make a hard decision. I had known from the beginning that Doctor Cullen was something different. The doctors before him had bled me to try and rid my blood of the virus; Dr. Cullen had never brought a knife near me. When my mother sat in on one of the check-ups, when he first started coming, she had inquired as to why he didn't. He simply refused to discus it, saying that it would not help the situation. He did other things, too.

He worked impossibly fast. When he would walk, it was graceful, but restrained, as if he were crawling instead of walking on two legs. He had an air of secret about him, and he sometimes smiled like he was hiding something.

While he fished in his bag for something, I gathered all the courage I could muster.

"Doctor Cullen?" My voice was rough. It sounded foreign, as if it were dusty from little use. His head snapped up. Although there was shock on his face, he still managed to be polite.

"Please, call me Carlisle."

"Carlisle," I gasped as another wave of pain hit me, "please, I don't want to live like this any more. Please, do something."

"I assure you Miss Swan, I am doing all that I can---"

"No," I cut him off. I did not know how much longer I would be able to speak. "Carlisle, I can see that you're different. I have heard stories about you. I know you can do more. Please."

He sighed and closed his eyes.

CPOV

Isabella Swan lay tangled in the bed. Her breathing was shallow and labored. I knew she was going to die soon. Her fists and teeth were clenched and every so often she would spasm with another bout of pain. Beneath the blankets, she was sickly thin. Her cheeks were sunken and her eyes hollow. It would be cruel to leave her this way.

"Alright," I resolved, almost to quiet for her to hear. I turned around and exited the room.

Finding Mrs. Swan was not hard. She waited outside the room to escort me to the door after every appointment. Today was no different.

"Finished already, Doctor Cullen." After all these years the woman still had the nerve to bat her eyelashes at me. She looked like a much older version of Isabella. The years had not been kind to her.

"Actually, Mrs. Swan, I was just looking for you."

She could barely hold back her squeal of delight.

"I would like to take your daughter someplace where I can treat her fully. She has a very rare disease, and I believe some of my colleagues would be able to help her."

Mrs. Swans' face fell. "What would this cost?"

For a moment, I was taken aback. "Surely, Mrs. Swan, you cannot put a price on the life of your daughter."

"No, no," she stuttered, "it's just that I--I want to be sure we can afford it. And to push a burden like that child on you would be terribly rude."

Looking around at the expensive art pieces around the Swan residence and then at the fine silk that Mrs. Swan wore, I knew it was a lie. "It would cost you nothing, madam. Having young Miss Swan say here, though, could very well cost her life."

"Please then, take her. She hasn't been out of that room for years now, and she is a great burden on our family." My look of mortification at her words must have prompted her swift leave.

I opened the door to the bedroom to find the young girl laying her head back against the heavy headboard, eyes scrunched up in pain.

"I am going to take you somewhere else now, Miss Swan," I warned her. "Is there anything you would like me to bring?"

"No," she grimaced, "and please, call me Bella."

I strode over to her bed to find she had passed out. Gently, I lifted her slight frame into my arms. "Don't worry, Bella."

**Wooh! Well, there you have it. Love it? Hate it? Should I write more? Should I jump in a well and shrivel up, never to write again? Really? Tell me about it so that I can write (or not write) another chapter. OK, so I'm going to write another chapter anyway, but feedback is mucho appreciated. **


	2. Inferno

**It was lovely to see all of the responses that this story got. Isn't writing a beautiful thing?**

**If I end up disappointing anyone, make sure you tell me, because I am still figuring out plot points for this thing. **

**I apologize for the length/belatedness of this chapter. I was in Victoria (Canada) this weekend. I live in the Pacific Northwest, a few hours from Forks, actually. Despite some Twihards going out of their way to see it, I don't recommend taking your winter vacation there.**

**Cheers  
**

CPOV

Isabella--Bella, lay lifeless in my arms as I ran. I could feel her weak pulse hammering against my chest. Her mother had shed no tears at our departure, nor had her father. The maid had sobbed once into a handkerchief before exiting the room.

The wind and trees blew past us at high speeds. Pieces of her hair lifted in the breeze and blew the scent of her blood towards me. I knew that I could resist, but still, I could never be too safe. I held my breath the rest of the way home.

The walls of the white house gleamed in the gray moonlight. Reflections of stars bounced off the high, arching windows. I held Bella to my side with one arm and swung the door open with the other.

The house was essentially empty. The walls were obscured by bookshelves stuffed with medical texts and other tomes. I thanked whatever force that had compelled me to buy a couch, just in case colleagues decided to drop by.

Carefully, I laid her down on the black fabric. I had only a few moments to consider how I would go about her transformation. I had never tasted human blood before, and I did not know what my reaction would be or if I would be able to keep her alive while she was…incapacitated. Feeling her pulse, I ascertained that she only had moments to live. I knew very little about immortal transformation, only that it was painful. What I should expect was completely beyond me, but her heartbeat was fading fast, and I would have to worry about side effects later.

Gently, I lifted her wrist. Her blood smelled warm, like ambrosia and nectar. While the blood of animals smelled earthen, mixed with the dirt and dust of the natural world, Isabella's blood in particular smelled floral and sweet. Venom pooled in my mouth.

Once I was relatively certain that I would be able to control myself, I grazed her skin with my teeth. It was supple and thin, and broke with the slightest touch. Although I hated to cause her pain, I sank my teeth into her vein.

Her blood tasted better than I could have imagined. It completely quenched the fire that had burned constantly in my throat for hundreds of years. Her back arched and she let out a hoarse scream. It snapped me back to my senses, and I released her wrist from my mouth. She writhed and contorted, screaming all the while.

"Fire!" she yelled. "Put out the fire! It _burns_!"

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "so sorry."

BPOV

The pain was liberating. I could move again. I could feel every muscle as it caught fire from the embers that were spurting from my wrist. My veins were gunpowder that had been set alight. My heart was the bomb. Somewhere I knew this, but at the moment, all I knew was the constant burning that was searing me from the inside out.

I had thought that my fever and constant aches had been a burden. This new, fresh pain made me realize how insignificant my old injuries were. How long could human flesh burn? Certainly, not this long. I screamed out to Carlisle. I told him to douse the fire. I told him to kill me. Sometimes, I just screamed. His sincere apologies fell on deaf ears.

Eventually, I felt the tips of my fingers begin to cool. I concentrated on them to hold my head above the burning inferno. Meanwhile, I could feel the fire moving. Growing, as if burning sticks were being piled together, forming a bonfire that greedily devoured the fuel. Tendrils of flames enveloped my heart and squeezed it as a snake would its unwilling prey. Another anguished cry escaped my lips and from the corner I heard another moan-- "I'm sorry."

Finally, the fire rose to a burning inferno, fueled by the existence of my beating heart. In one desperate, futile attempt, my pulse accelerated until all I could hear was a steady thrumming, much like the beat of a hummingbird's wings as it flutters from flower to flower in search of nectar. Then, in an instant, it stopped. Stopped cold. But I didn't. Some distant cinders floated up to nestle in my throat, but the searing heat was gone. I opened my eyes.

**Ooh, cliffy. I know everyone hates those, but hey, I did the best I could. There is going to be a lot of descriptives in the next chapter, and I wanted to take a little more time on those.**

**Tell me what cha think!**


	3. Awakening

**Wow, how long has it been? Three months, you say? SORRY! I guess I can't make enough excuses, but, in my defense, I did start piano lessons and get a job. Once again, I PROFUSELY APOLOGIZE! I'll get someone to slap me back to my senses tomorrow...I will definitely try to get faster updates up now that school is slowing down.**

**Cheers, and enjoy**

BPOV:

I had never before seen the world as one of beauty. Without doubt, the tapestries that had hung from the walls of my chamber were of the finest craft. The graceful architecture of my bedroom was elegant. Beautiful? No.

During my studies, I had seen pictures of faraway lands. Along with the descriptions Carlisle had supplied for me, I imagined those places to be beautiful, but I could never be sure.

Now, I fully realized what a beautiful place the earth was. Though I had once thought the light of the moon made everything gray and lacking in color, I now realized that the night was simply a different world. The moonlight cascaded down in pools over the windowsills. The grain of the hardwood floors shimmered mutely beneath the moon's delicate rays. I gazed in wonder at several red roses in a white vase, a shock of color in the mostly-white room, that seemed to glow with a scarlet even deeper than the color of my drapes at home.

A small noise caught my attention. A subtle, smooth sound coming from the corner. One different from the sound of the soft wind whistling through the grass outside. The light was dim, but my eyes were perfectly adjusted and I was able to see every blond hair on Carlisle's head. His eyes were closed, head rested against the wall as if sleeping, but I could tell he was awake.

"Bella?" He voice was barely above a whisper, but it was crystal clear to me. He opened his eyes and stood, advancing slowly as if I were some type of wild animal. "I won't hurt you."

I scanned his eyes, picking out worry, guilt, compassion, and…fear? How could anyone, especially this being, who was practically the person who meant the most to me, more than my parents, almost more than Geneva, fear me? As for the part about hurting me, I would never expect that of him. The thought was almost funny. I let out a little laugh.

He glanced at me now, looking more worried than before. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." I said. In fact, it was the best I could ever remember feeling. Despite the annoying burning in the back of my throat, I could move without pain, breathe without coughing. I no longer had the sticky-sweat of fever clinging to the back of my neck.

I decided it was time to test my limits. Cautiously, I placed my feet on the floor, one after the other. I stood, flexing the muscles in my legs. It felt…good. I smiled. Carlisle smiled back.

"Thank you Carlisle. I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"Of course, Bella." He paused. There was something still on his mind.

"What will I do now?"

He sighed. "Anything. There is no obligation for you to stay with me, though you are welcome."

I looked over his shoulder, out at a new world filled with color and hope. Then, I turned my attention back to Carlisle. I felt closer to him than I did my own father. "What about my family?"

"I am afraid you cannot go back to them. I'm sorry."

The hole I had expected to feel did not open up inside of me. I felt no loss, perhaps some for my companion, Geneva, but none for my parents. Still, I was curious. "Why?"

"No one fully understands what we are. To humans, we are beings of beauty, mystery, and danger. You are no longer among the living, Bella. Well," he chuckled, "you aren't human."

I reached up to brush my cheek, which was no longer hollowed with sickness. I did not fully understand what he was saying. "What do you mean, I'm not human?" I had guessed this already, but it still came as a shock, hearing it from someone else.

"You are a--a vampire." The word was almost painful for him to say.

There was silence while both of us contemplated the word. I had heard of vampires in the novels I read. Blood-sucking, cruel, and malevolent were a few of the various adjectives that had been used to describe them, but Carlisle. No. He was the exact opposite.

Deciding to get back to the matter at hand, I asked, "What would happen if I chose to stay with you?"

He brightened. "We would move. Far away from here. You need to become adjusted to the scent of human blood. You would have to pose as my daughter, if that would be acceptable to you," he grinned. So did I. The thought of having a father who actually cared was a happy one.

"And, the matter of…feeding?" I believed I had about that term in my human life, but I couldn't be sure, the memories were blurred.

"Why don't I show you?"

**Sorry for the shortness. More updates on the way!**


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